I Wish I Hadn't
by emberlily
Summary: Erin Marwick witnesses the murder of a witch by magical creatures seeking to overthrow the human magical community. She must become spy for Cormac, the leader of the rebellion. With the help of Hogwarts teachers and a more-than-friend Terrence, will she be able to find the strength to fight against him? OCs, but no Mary Sues! Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling - I'm just borrowing.
1. Chapter 1

I sighed and ducked under the magnolia tree by the fine arts building. It was the only secluded area I could find – the rest of campus was overrun with college students celebrating the end of finals. I settled in under the roots, trying to drown out the cheers and throbbing of the music around the corner, focusing instead on the small pond situated behind the hedges.

Suddenly, the pond stirred. I frowned, leaning forward. It was…bubbling. _Why?_ I thought for a moment, then I tensed. My intuition was screaming, despite my mind racing to find some sort of logical explanation for the disturbance.

_Something's coming._

I had two options. The safest choice was running away. No explanation needed behind that choice. But I could stay… Perhaps it wasn't dangerous… _But then again,_ I thought, my heart pounding as the bubbles increased, _maybe it is._ For some reason, that excited me more than anything, and my curiosity overwhelmed my fear. I waited with baited breath. The noises of the crowd seemed to dim and for a moment, everything was silent.

It wasn't the water that broke the silence. Instead, a crack rang out and a person appeared next to the water, eyes wild, a robe bellowing around her, her hand clutching… I blinked. _A wand?_ I thought, bewildered.

Then the water erupted. I only caught a glimpse of the creature – webbed feet propelling it upward, the body and head of a horse… but no horse had teeth like these, jagged and dripping with blood. Before the woman could turn, it clamped onto the back of her neck. Blood spewed forward and the wand slid from her grip. The creature shook the corpse a few times before tossing her body aside, snorting as if with disgust.

Two more cracks rang through the silence and two more beings appeared beside the pond. The first – a thin woman clad in a shimmering, green dress, her eyes and skin so pale she seemed to glow in the night – turned to the creature in the pond, stroking its slimy, green mane with affection. "Be still, kelpie." Her soft voice carried on the wind. The other, a stout, furry man who was naked except for what looked like a short kilt wrapped around his waist, bent to pick up the wand.

But then I slipped up. I should have stayed put against the tree, but there was some part of me that ached to be in that man, wrapping my own hand around that wand – bloodied or not. I had leaned forward when the man had moved and my leg pressed too hard against the twigs beneath it. There was a snap.

Before I could blink, the furry man was before me, one hand clutching my throat, the other drawn back, claws extended, a moment away from spilling my life-blood.

"Brody!" The woman's voice cracked like a whip and the man twisted his head in anger. "He said to only kill the witch."

"A muggle couldn't have gotten through his barrier," the man snarled. I shuddered at the hatred in his gravely voice, struggling for breath, even while my mind started at the word. _Muggle? _The thoughts flitted through my mind in a stream. _As in _Harry Potter_? This can't be happening. It must be a dream. It can't be real because a magical creature just killed a witch in front of me and that must be impossible because witches and wizards are more powerful than creatures but how would I know they're all fiction anyways how are they standing there…_

"If she was a witch, she would have had her wand pointed at us by now," the woman said patiently.

The man lowered his hand. "Than how do you think she got through, selkie?" he spat, but he hadn't loosened his grip on my throat. I gasped, fingers clawing at his paws. The world was fading around me, but I caught a few pieces of the woman's words before I succumbed to the darkness.

"One of the Lost… records destroyed… Take her with us."

My head pounded. I tried to press my hand against my head, but something held it back. I blinked, the world coming into focus. I was in a chair. _Tied_ to a chair, and from what I could tell based on the feel and wood of the legs, it was something out of a mansion, not a college campus. There was a wood floor beneath my feet and a fire crackled to my left.

"Awake, are we?"

I breathed in and raised my head. A man was leaning back in a chair, one hand tapping his chin, the other rubbing gently over an elegant, black cane. His black hair was bound back loosely, strands coming free to delicately frame his eerily beautiful face. He watched my face, amusement dancing in his bright blue eyes. "Speak, human," he said. "Tell me what you think. Tell me what the first thoughts of a captive are. Intrigue me."

I struggled to find my tongue – my head continued to throb. "You…you're not human, are you?"

He snorted, standing swiftly. "Is that the best you've got," he mocked, striding forward, his cane tapping casually on the floor. _He doesn't need it,_ I realized. _But that's a rather… out-of-date fashion accessory_. His hair fell back as he lifted his chin, revealing pointed ears. "No, I'm not _human_. If you can't recognize one of the Fair Folk – or a half-Folk at least – when you see one, you're more _ignorant_ than I thought." He stopped a few feet from me and leaned on his cane. "Now, what should I do with you?"

I swallowed. "Let me go?" I suggested.

His eyes went cold. "Really?" His voice was mocking again, but darker. "After you witnessed magical creatures murder a witch? Oh, don't try to deny it – it's obvious what you've seen."

I pressed my lips together against sudden nausea. My mind was spinning the images before me now, emphasizing the details – the sound as the teeth sunk in, the scent of the magnolia blossoms tainted with the iron bite of blood…

"The question is," he drawled, still looking at me, "Whether or not you are truly one of the Lost."

He waited. I refused to speak, refused to ask. I wasn't about to give him more words to twist, but it must have been obvious what I was thinking. He smirked. "Cat got your tongue?" he said. "I may not be able to see dreams like my father could, but I can still catch glimpses of thought. You don't know about the Lost, do you?"

"No," I said coldly. "But as you clearly pointed out, I am ignorant. If you could be so _kind_, please enlighten me."

His smirk broadened and he held my eyes for a long moment, drawing out my patience, before responding. "Do you like to read, human?"

I blinked, somewhat caught off-guard. "Yes."

"Then you've read those _Harry Potter_ books, I'm sure."

"Yes."

"For the most part, they are true," he said. His amusement was back as he watched my reactions – jaw dropped, then clenched again, eyes widened, then narrowed in speculation. "Lord Voldemort destroyed a considerable amount of magic-detecting devices used to find muggleborn witches and wizards when he took power, and the destruction spread even to America. The knowledge to make them was also lost until recent times. There are a considerable number of muggleborns being discovered now, in their teens and twenties, and they are referred to as 'the Lost' because of the length of time it has taken to find them."

His eyes glinted as he read my expression. I hoped that the glimmer of hope – the childish dream that had gripped me from the moment I read the stories – hadn't reached my eyes. But it was kind of hard to suppress. "Are you saying… I'm a witch?" I asked, somewhat breathlessly.

He threw back his head and laughed – a smooth, chilling laugh that left my insides recoiling in terror. "No," he said, leaning forward once again so I could feel his breath brush against my face. "I'm saying that I'll take you to the magical department to be tested. If you have sufficient magic to get into a school, then I will use you. You will bring me information on the professors and material taught in whatever school you end up in."

"What will you use it for?" I blurted out, my hands clenching.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowed in irritation at the interruption. "The humans suppress magical creatures like us," he said simply. "I'm looking for ways to fight back."

The image of the kelpie's teeth in the body of the witch had me cringe. "And if I refuse?" I said, unable to keep the tremble from my voice.

He smirked. "I have power to keep you alive for quite a length of time while killing you," he said. "How does thirty years of torture sound?"

Words fled me and I pressed my lips together against another wave of nausea at the thought.

His smirk broadened and he continued. "And if you're not magical, I'll simply have them wipe your mind of that encounter, then throw you in front of a car so what you witnessed tonight, if not erased by the impact, will simply be interpreted as a traumatic delusion." He snapped his fingers and the chair disappeared. I fell to the floor my hands – freed of their bindings – barely lessening the impact on the wood floor. I gasped – more in shock than pain – and rubbed my wrists as he looked down on me. "Do we have a deal?" he said mockingly.


	2. Chapter 2

It's my first "published" fanfiction and it's mostly OCs, but I promise the plotline is worth it! Please R&R!

I spent the night in one of the guest bedrooms – an elegant, European-mansion style room that is too stereo-typical to describe. I couldn't have slept long – it was late when I witnessed the murder and I had been unconscious for a period of time. But there was a sharp crack beside me that had me bolted upright in miliseconds, searching the darkness.

I was met with a pair of wide-orbed eyes at a squeaky voice. "Master Cormac needs you!"

I squinted in the dim light. It was – I reminded myself I shouldn't be surprised – a house-elf. _I guess they must work for things… _other_ than humans as well_, I thought. I would have thought that magical creatures wouldn't enslave each other, but then I remembered the books. Hermonie had struggled to create S.P.E.W. because the house-elves _wanted_ to serve. I shook my head, trying to focus. "Ok," I said, getting to my feet. The house-elf scampered to the door and I followed as quickly as I could, trying to straighten my wrinkled clothes and bed hair, with little success.

The house-elf opened a door on the right and gestured for me to enter. I walked in and found the dark-haired man again, surrounded by a pile of boxes, his neat suit in sharp contrast to my bedraggled jeans and t-shirt. He surveyed me, his eyes once again amused, then gestured around him. "These are all your possessions from your apartment," he said. "Take what you need – the rest will be disposed of."

"What will my roommates think?" I asked, scowling at him. "And my parents? They're supposed to arrive in two days to help me move out."

"If you are a witch, your school will inform your parents that you've accepted some internship," he said smoothly. "If not, I'll place your possessions back where they belong and no one will notice they were missing in the first place. At least if your roommates are as hung-over as they were when I saw them this morning," he added, eyeing me strangely. "Tell me, why were you sitting alone instead of getting drunk like the rest of your teenage companions?"

I gave him a flat look. "Do I really need to answer that?"

His eyes narrowed. "It would be in your best interest to _not_ speak to me in that tone," he said coldly.

I didn't back down. "The information is not necessary for you and your _rebellion_, so I'd appreciate it if I could keep personal information _personal_." I raised my chin. I could see the anger stewing in his eyes, but there was a grudging acceptance in there too. He couldn't deny the logic.

At last, he inclined his head. "I'm sure you have your reasons," he said. He really was a master at mocking me – I had to resist the urge to scream at his talk-to-the-child tone. I turned to the boxes and began shuffling through them. He watched me for a few moments, then left.

I hated the idea of his "disposing" of my stuff, but I guessed it wouldn't be wise to argue that issue with him. I was still just glad that he was letting me wear _my_ clothes. I pulled what I knew I needed from the boxes – clothes, shoes, toiletries – leaving everything else, from books to blankets, behind. I was about to pick them up when the house-elf showed up, dragging a suitcase behind him. "Master Cormac says put your stuff in here," he said.

I nodded and did as told. The house-elf stood to the side, then took the suitcase when I had finished, pulling it with ease despite the weight. "Follow me," he said.

The house-elf led me to the room I had arrived in. Cormac was standing beside the fireplace, fiddling with the lid of a small container. He glanced up when he saw me and made a dismissive gesture to the house-elf. "Take your suitcase and get ready in there," he said, pointing towards a door. "And make it quick, human."

I bristled. I didn't like being called "human," but then I remembered that I hadn't told him my name. "It's _Erin_," I said, picking up the suitcase.

He raised an eyebrow. "I know," he said. I paused, half-way to the door. "Your ID fell out of your pocket when you were tied to the chair."

I gritted my teeth, feeling embarrassed for some reason, and marched into the bathroom. When I returned – showered and in clean clothes – Cormac held out the container. "Flew powder," he said. I fought again to hide my excitement. "The location is the American Department of Magical Analysis." He gave me a sharp look. "Don't," he said in a dangerous voice, "get lost."

I swallowed and took a pinch, then threw it into the fire. The flames sparked green. My heart practically danced. _Magic!_ my mind sang. _Magic, magic, magic!_ I fought to keep the grin off my face. "American Department of Magical Analysis," I said before stepping into the flames.

I had a friend in high school that enjoyed grabbing my backpack behind and dragging me across the hallway while I struggled to find my feet. Using flew powder felt kind of like that, except the directions twisted at incredible speed. When I finally was spat out of the fireplace, I felt like I was going to be sick. _I think I'll prefer brooms,_ I thought, getting to my feet.

I had arrived in an average looking office. Exceptionally average, actually – the flat, blue carpet, the white walls, the whining lights, the faded red chairs, the reception desk with a goldfish bowl… The only things that were unusual about it was the fireplace itself and the quill that continued to write while the receptionist stood up to greet me. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked.

"Umm…"

"I'm afraid not," Cormac said, stepping from the fireplace. "I discovered her yesterday. This woman passed my barrier as I was entertaining a wizard friend and witnessed some magic. The barrier was only to prevent muggles from entering, so I guessed she might have magical power."

_So that's the story,_ I thought, pressing my lips together.

The woman glanced down at the desk, then pulled out her wand and tapped the goldfish bowl. The goldfish vanished. "If Ms. Hall is done with her appointment, you will be able to squeeze in before nine-thirty," she said, watching the bowl. The fish suddenly swam back into sight and continued around in its circle. She waved her wand and a door opened on her left. "Go on in," she said.

I followed Cormac into the room. The door closed behind us and a woman – her brown hair streaked with grey – stood up to greet us. "Cormac son of Dara," he said, bowing grandly to her. "This is my friend, Erin Marwick."

She shook his hand and then reached for mine. "I apparently broke through his barrier," I started to say.

"I heard," she said, gesturing to a bowl on her desk. "The goldfish absorbs the details of the exchange between guests and my receptionist. There's no need to repeat it. Have a seat."

Feeling foolish, I sat down, slightly hunched while Cormac sat in his own seat as if it were a throne. "I'm willing to sponsor her," he said. "She told me about her college situation and she has been working for her tuition. I'll aid her if she has enough magic to get into a school."

_How did you…? We didn't have that conversation!_ I kept my face blank, even while my mind raged at him.

"Hmm." She surveyed me. "So she just broke through your barrier? That doesn't suggest anything about the amount of power she might have."

"Which is why I brought her here," he said.

She pursed her lips, then opened a drawer on her desk. Her hand came up holding what appeared to be a small crystal ball. "Here," she said, holding it out to me. I took it uncertainly. It fit perfectly in my palm. "Hold it with both hands and focus your energy into it."

Puzzled, I pressed my hands over it and tried to concentrate. But my mind wandered. _Do I want to have magic?_ I thought. _If I have it, I'll have to help Cormac. If I don't, I'll be thrown in front of a car. How can I do this anyway? It feels like it's just glass._ My heart pounded. _I don't have magic – I can't have it. It's not working. I– _

Hands suddenly came down on my shoulders behind me. I jumped and started to turn. "Stay seated," Cormac said calmly.

Ms. Hall looked at him. "It will disrupt the flow if you're touching her," she said calmly.

His hands vanished, but he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Close your eyes, Erin."

I swallowed and did as he said.

"Believe you have magic, even if just for this moment. Cast out your doubts and focus inside."

I breathed in, searching. There was something there, something warm, but it felt too familiar. Perhaps it was just energy, something I could tap into when I was struggling during a morning job or through a late-night paper. _Stop_, I told myself. _Just pretend. At least for now._ I took a deep breath and let the energy fill me.

"Now focus the magic. Directed it into the crystal, with your hands or your mind, whatever lets it flow."

I felt a strange sort of release as I let the energy pour towards my hands. Then the energy increased, building inside. I let my hands drift, cupping the crystal from below as I let the magic flow, seeping into the crystal. The warmth was building and I felt some sort of tension in my body, like the excitement before the gunshot of a race, like the last step on a diving board before the free-fall, like–

"Enough." Ms. Hall's voice was sharp enough to halt my concentration, but not enough to startle me. "Open your eyes."

I did. The crystal in my hand had grown, almost to the size of a beach ball. I gazed at it in awe. Energy – magic – was spiraling inside it, changing in every shade of color, darting and flowing and crackling before me.

"If I had let her continue, it would have popped," she said, looking over at Cormac, who was now standing next to me. They exchanged a look. "I'll send out letters immediately. I assume you want only the top schools?"

Cormac inclined his head. "Of course."

She nodded and picked up her wand from the desk, waving it so that several quills began writing at once. "You probably won't even need to support her financially," she said, busy with her wand even as she waved us towards the door. "That much potential… She'll have a scholarship for sure." She paused and looked up. "Margaret – my receptionist – will deal with the payment. I doubt that the responses will take more than an hour, so please wait in the front room."

"What did I just do?" I asked softly when the door closed behind us.

Cormac glanced at me, then looked away. "It's a system they've had in for about ten years," he explained. He handed over three gold coins to the receptionist, then sat down. Hesitantly, I took the chair beside him. "Once any magical ability is exhibited in a human, they are tested by this department for magical potential, or the amount of raw magic you have within you. Those with more raw magic will be able to cast more powerful and complex spells. It is usually quite accurate." He stared thoughtfully at the wall. "Although your potential is a great deal higher than most humans."

"Is… Fair Folk potential higher?" I asked in a low voice.

He turned to me slowly. While his face was calm, his eyes were livid, burning with fury. "I was able to be tested because I was half-Folk, half-human," he said, his voice quiet enough that the secretary could not overhear. "Most magical _creatures_, as they call us, are not able to even own a wand, let alone have their magic assessed. Even though," and at this his eyes sparked with undeniable power, "our magic often far surpasses that of human magic."

I hadn't noticed how far I had pushed myself from him until he looked away. I was literally gripping the arm of the chair, as if it could somehow protect me from an angry Fair Folk, although I still wasn't quite sure what a Fair Folk was.

The fireplace suddenly blazed into life again. The receptionist glanced up. "Do you have–" Then she stood up, startled. "Headmistress!" she said in surprise. "How can I help you?"

A tall woman had stepped from the flames, her hair crisp, her mouth in a tight line. "I received a most interesting letter," she said to the receptionist. "I have come to inquire about its validity." She caught sight of me and approached, holding out a hand. I stood uncertainly and took it. "Are you Erin Marwick?" she asked, her piercing eyes looking me over.

I nodded, at a loss for words. This woman was rather intimidating, and she seemed a bit… familiar. Cormac watched from his seat, his eyes amused, poised, waiting for my reaction.

"I am Professor McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."


	3. Chapter 3

After meeting Professor McGonagall, I did the same thing every normal, practical, nineteen-year-old girl would do. In other words, I bounced in my chair with a grin larger than the Cheshire cat's, and did my very best to not squeal in excitement.

_I'm going to Hogwarts!_ I sang in my head while Cormac grew more rigid every time I bounced. _I'm going to Hogwarts! I'm going to–_

"_Sit still!_" Cormac seized my shoulder, forcing me back into my seat. His glower only dimmed my smile a little. "How old are you, six?" he hissed. "Control yourself!" He released my shoulder and sat back, resuming his deliberate stare at the ceiling.

I glanced over at Margaret, wondering if my enthusiasm was irritating her as well. She was barely suppressing a smile. My grin returned and I turned towards the door. McGonagall had been in Ms. Hall's office for at least ten minutes. "What do you think they're talking about?" I asked in a whisper.

Of course, considering there were only three people in the room, even a whisper carried. Cormac sent me another scowl, then glanced toward the door himself. "No idea," he declared, turning away. "Probably whether or not your display deserves a scholarship. For my sake, I hope that you succeed. Although I'm not pressed for money, being your benefactor is going to be costly."

_Benefactor…_ The word shook me out of the giddiness. _Oh._ That's right. Cormac was going to pay for me to go to school to _spy_. Upon threat of torture. All of a sudden, the idea of going to Hogwarts made me feel sick. I was going to have to report to Cormac about Professor McGonagall of all people! And there would likely be other professors there whose names I would recognize. While I didn't know them personally, I had grown up reading the books, watching the movies, dreaming of receiving a letter… _Harry Potter_ was my childhood, and I was going to be serving one who wanted to tear it all down.

Not only that, but from what I understood, Hogwarts was one of the best schools of magic in the world. I would be learning powerful stuff, and that would give Cormac an advantage in his rebellion. And his rebellion would likely affect the other heroes, Harry Potter himself, and Hermione, and Ron… I bit my lip. _What am I doing?_ I thought. _Shouldn't you stand up against him, despite his threats? You coward!_

The door opened and Professor McGonagall stepped out. I quickly smiled again, trying to bring some of the joy back. _Decide later,_ I thought, trying to pull myself together. _Maybe you can find a way to fight back, right?_ My insides squirmed, but McGonagall had turned her sharp eyes on me. Her lips were pursed together, but a thin smile was creeping past her strict expression. "You will receive an official letter this evening," she said. "But I hope to see you being sorted soon." With that, she took a pinch of flew powder from the mantle and disappeared into the flames.

Cormac stood, a smile – one that looked more sly than pleased – sliding into place. "Let's head back," he said. He strode to the fireplace, swinging his cane in a cheery motion, and tossed in flew powder. "The mansion of Cormac, son of Dara," he commanded before stepping into the fire.

_Does he not have a surname?_ I thought, repeating his motions. I opened my mouth to speak, but paused. _I'm already in the American ministry – government building…whatever… I could tell them about Cormac's threat now. _I took a step back from the flames. They were beginning to change color again, the emerald green fading slowly into yellow. _I doubt they'll just kick me out of the magical world just because I'm broke. If I have power, there'll be another way for me to attend school. I can find a way myself, take out a Gringotts loan or something… _I began to turn around.

Suddenly, a burning sensation erupted at the base of my throat. I opened my mouth to cry out, my hands reaching to my throat. But instead of a scream, words were squeezed out, my lips moving against my will. "The mansion of Cormac, son of Dara." My feet moved forward, forcing me head-first into the flames.

I landed in a heap on the carpet at Cormac's feet, coughing. There was a strong scent of burning, and I suddenly became aware of a violent heat on the back of my head. I shrieked and rolled, trying to get it out. Water splashed down on me – much more than necessary – and I looked up, drenched from head to foot – at Cormac. He had his wand out – a long, dark, silver-handled wand that looked somehow familiar… _His cane,_ I realized, glancing to the side. Sure enough, there was the discarded "sheath." _Like Lucius Malfoy's staff…_

But the excited movie connection moment died as I looked up into Cormac's face. He almost had a smile on his lips, but that only made the livid expression in his eyes that much more frightening. "You catch fire if you don't step in quick enough," he said, lowering his wand slightly. But his knuckles were still white from their grip. "I believe I warned you not to get lost," he said, stepping closer, slowly, deliberately. "But perhaps I wasn't clear about what the _consequences _were."

I scrambled to sit up before he could reach me and scooted backward until I was pressed into the wall. _Get a grip_, I tried to tell myself. But the dangerous feeling coming from Cormac – the feeling of anger, of power, of destruction – was too frightening for me to do anything else. I cringed as he stood over me. Smoothly, he reached down and hauled me up by my throat. I struggled to get my feet, trying to ease the hold. My neck was still sore from being strangled by the furry man yesterday, and I unwillingly let out a hiss of pain as he tightened his grip, pinning me to the wall.

"Don't defy me," he said, his eyes gleaming, his face inches from mine. "Do you know what happens when people make deals or are in debt to one of the Fair Folk? A magical brand of sorts is placed on them, right between their mind–" He tapped my forehead with the end of his wand. I cringed away from the cold metal. "–and your heart." He placed the metal in the middle of my chest, then drew it up deliberately until it settled at the base of my throat. "It binds you to obey me until the debt is met or deal fulfilled," he said, his smile twisting up into a full smirk. "I can tell if you plan on betraying me and I can control you if you attempt anything that might break our agreement. I can even make you take your own life."

He tightened his hand briefly to make a point before letting go. I slid to the floor, shock and pain making my legs useless, and touched my throat as I gasped, trying not to sob. He gave me a disgusted look. "Don't be so melodramatic," he said. "The pain is temporary – you won't have any marks. Did you not notice that I healed your wrists?"

I didn't speak. No, I hadn't notice, although I should have thought of them at Department of Magical Analysis. Ms. Hall would have noticed signs of… abuse. But my silence was in reply to his comment. How could anyone be so cold? He lashed out and then defended his actions because pain was _temporary_? Meanwhile, my mind was scrambling to figure out how much debt I was in. School expenses, being healed, being housed, my clothes being retrieved…

"Ungrateful human," he said, his chin tilted up haughtily. He turned away, speaking to me with his back turned. "Lunch will be served in an hour. Trill – you didn't bother asking the name of my house-elf, did you – will show you where the dining room is. Stay here until then, and _stay out of trouble._" With that, he left, closing the door hard behind him.

I stared at the door, then slowly pulled my knees up to my chin and began to cry. The situation was starting to sink in. _This_ was my life now. Without any warning or transition, I had gotten myself caught in the beginning of a feud between magical creatures and the wizarding world – places that had only existed in stories until now. Even if I could return back to my normal life, I couldn't live in ignorance and pretend that I didn't know about the witch's death, didn't know about the magic, didn't know about reality.

_Normal life. _I trembled. _Normal life. That means… I can no longer see my family. _The tears came faster and I pressed my hands over my mouth, trying to keep my sobs from echoing through the door. I didn't need Cormac to come in and see me in my weakness. _Mom_, I thought. _Dad. My sister Sarah, my newborn brother Kyle, my friends – Emily, Jessica, Kim… and… Daniel. _I pressed my fists into my eyes now, trying to stem the tears more than the sobs. "No," I whispered. "Don't think about him… no…"

But the memories had begun. With the pain in my heart growing stronger, I let the memories flow through my mind… His laughter when I tripped in front of our high school… His fingers lingering as he leaned over to help me on a library computer… The giddy feeling of holding hands under the desk – something I had secretly wished for whenever I saw couples in class… His eyes darting from my lips to my eyes as he asked if he could kiss me, then the soft pressure of his lips on mine that made my heart flutter… His laughter as he climbed out of the car after a date, insisting on a proper hug… His comforting voice on the telephone after a fight with my parents… The awkward moment when we were kissing and my phone began buzzing – a phone call from my dad asking where I was… And then that last moment in front of my house – when he lifted my chin for a kiss, a kiss that, while not passionate, had an intensity that surprised me. Then he drove away, his lips forming the unheard words: "I love you." And then he was gone.

I slumped on the floor, the anguish finally sapping my energy. Tears continued to spill from my eyes as my mind became numb. Daniel wouldn't find out about me missing… or rather, about me "going abroad for an internship," until after everyone else. He was studying abroad himself, in Columbia. It was an engineering program, and it took up so much of his time, he was lucky if he got to check his email once a week. My parents wouldn't think to tell him, so he would wait and wonder – wonder if I had found someone else in his absence. Then, when I didn't respond, he would finally try emailing Dad. He would probably be upset that I didn't tell him first. But then maybe he would move on, find some glamorous Columbian woman and never come back. All the while, I would be feeding information to a man who wanted the destruction of a world teaching me magic. Yes, it was _magic_, but was it worth it?

I clenched my fists. _If I had found out about this world in any other way,_ I thought, _I would have stayed. Stayed for him. But I had to find out _this _way. _I ran my fingers through my hair. _Why didn't I leave?_ I thought. _That moment under the tree… I could have ran. Why didn't I?_

_I wish I hadn't stayed._

"Nice of you to join us," Cormac said, glancing up from his book.

I swallowed hard and tried to keep my face straight. When Trill had come to find me, I had been in the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face in a desperate attempt to wipe away the traces of tears. Cormac's smirk as he surveyed my face suggested I hadn't succeeded. I glanced away. "You're reading at the table?"

He let out a short laugh. "Yes," he said, his voice sarcastic. "Rude, isn't it?" He closed the book and set it aside. "But I was learning the spell for _you_, angel."

I turned to him, torn between alarm at the word "spell" and irritation at the mocking nickname, but any words I was preparing to throw at him died on my lips. His wand was out, and before I could think, it was pressed to my temple. His lips were moving, but I couldn't concentrate on them. My mind was… for lack of better description, _writhing_. There was something wrong – the magic he was using was mixing my senses, churning my memories, tugging away my thoughts. A brief image passed before my eyes – I could see the world blurring from tears, but it was a memory of the moment. A moment that happened only minutes ago. There was a jerking motion at the side of my head and suddenly I was back in my body. Cormac pulled his wand away. Attached was a silver thread.

"What did you just do?" I asked in a low voice.

He turned his back, placing the strand into a bowl. "Those books mention a pensive, do they not?" he asked, leaning over the bowl. "This is something… quite similar. I've made a copy of your experiences in the last hour. Different than a complete memory extraction… although the main difference is that I can do it forcefully, without _your_ interference. It's very pure magic, uncontaminated with the human requirements of agency in spells." He glanced over at me and smirked. "This way I can see for myself what you see, examine the teachers and teachings myself. You should feel better about it too – you don't need to worry about how much to tell me or what lies to twist. Your choice in the matter is gone. You can continue being that 'perfect little angel' that you're pretending to be with your feeble attempts to stand up to me."

I was trembling again, this time with anger.

He turned away, either not noticing or not caring, peering back into the pensive. "I did expect you to do something more interesting than just cry, though," he said.

I snatched a glass of water from the table and threw it at him – the glass included. Childish, but in my temper, I needed to do something. But it had no effect – without even turning around, Cormac flicked up his wand. The water and glass froze in the air, then righted itself in the air, the water swirling back into the cup. Cormac turned and plucked it out of the air. "That wasn't very nice," he said, raising an eyebrow. He took a sip.

I didn't reply.

There was a loud pop in the air above the table. I jumped, and in my surprise, my control lessened. The few angry tears I had been holding back slipped out. I brushed them away, staring up at the letter drifting down. Cormac reached around me and plucked it out of the air before I could think to reach up. "Let's take a look at your letter, then," he said. He glanced at me with a smirk. "Are you disappointed it wasn't an owl?" he mocked.

"This world in general isn't what I expected," I said without looking at him.

He scoffed and sat down beside me, at the head of the table. "Having an owl travel from Great Britain would be absurd in any case," he said. He pushed the letter at me. "Open it. I'd do it myself, but there's a charm to prevent anyone other than the addressee from opening it." He smirked at me and watched as I tore it open.

Even as I read the words, even as I lived that childhood fantasy, there was still that heaviness holding me back from the excitement I knew I should have felt:

"Dear Miss Erin Marwick,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."


	4. Chapter 4

"Four days?" I whispered, staring at the mantle above the fireplace. "I'm starting school… in four days?"

Cormac scowled at me, straightening his jacket deliberately. Somehow he made that simple movement clearly communicate what he was thinking, which seemed to be "Do I really need to answer that question, stupid girl?"

"Yes," he said. "You attend year round – spring and summer included – and we get this thing over with in four years. Most of the Lost have agreed to the program. It is more convenient for me – I'll be able to get the information more quickly. Besides," he added with a sneer. "If your tears were any indication, my angel, I doubt you'd be able to handle seven years away from your family."

I bit back the snarl that was threatening to erupt from the back of my throat. _I'll show you your angel,_ I thought, scowling as he picked up his cane. He turned to me and bowed. "After you, my lady," he said.

_If he dribbles any more sarcasm,_ I thought, _the floor is going to flood. _I took a pinch of flew powder and threw it at the flames. "Diagon Alley," I said, stepping into the flames. The pulling sensation began again. _Brooms,_ I reminded myself. _The brooms will be better. A smooth, wood handle, the scent of pine as you rise from the ground…_

_Although technology has improved,_ another part of my mind reminded me. _Maybe they ride swiffer mops instead._

The image drove me into laughter, so when I stepped out of the fireplace, I inhaled a mouthful of soot. I coughed.

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron," a voice said.

I glanced up, covering my mouth as I hacked again. "Thanks," I choked out.

The man behind the bar – in a crisp uniform that contrasted somewhat with his haywire hair and bulging belly – smiled. "A glass of water?" he suggested, retrieving a cup from below the counter. "On the house."

I almost laughed, but only managed to spur on another coughing fit. "Thank you," I rasped, going over to the bar and taking a seat.

"No problem," he said, grinning. "Haven't traveled many times by flew powder, have you?"

I shook my head, raising the glass.

"Erin." I jumped at the sharp tone, almost dropping the glass. Doing my best to brush the water from my arms, I took a needed drink and turned to face Cormac. He strode over to me, his eyes irritated. "What are you doing?"

"She is drinking." Cormac gave him a sharp look, but the bar tender had begun polishing a glass and didn't look up. "I would have thought even a Fae would be able to recognize that particular human action."

Cormac narrowed his eyes. "You're a mess," he said, turning to me. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and held it out. "Wipe your cheeks and we'll go."

Something in his tone suggested that I didn't protest. I downed the water quickly and set the glass down, then rubbed at my cheeks.

"You missed a spot on your forehead," the bar tender said, glancing up with a laugh. I wiped at it quickly. "Don't let the spinning faze you – if you keep stepping forward, you'll come out feet-first."

"Thank you," I said, smiling back. I stood up and turned to Cormac, who wordlessly began walking towards the back door.

"Have a nice day, ma'am," the bar tender called. The word "ma'am" was stressed – clearly his good wishes were not extended to Cormac.

"Thank you," I called back, somewhat more hesitantly. Cormac's back had stiffened. _Get out of here before he starts something,_ I told myself, quickly closing the door behind me.

Cormac stood for a moment with his back towards me, his hand trembling slightly on the cane. I wasn't sure what to say. I honestly thought he had been exaggerating when he had said that wizards had suppressed magical creatures… Although I wasn't exactly sure what "Fae" meant. I recalled the movies that I had seen – thank goodness only in movies – in history class, the ones depicting the civil rights movement and the terrors that had occurred. Were the Fae being suppressed to that extent as well?

Urged on by the sympathy, I hesitantly reached out to touch his back, strands of his black hair brushing my fingers as I placed my hand against him. He jolted – I yanked my hand back at the sudden movement – and turned. His eyes were briefly surprised. Then his expression became blank, unreadable. He gazed at me for a moment, then turned away, tapping sharply on a brick.

All serious thought faded from my mind. I stared in awe as the archway was made, revealing Diagon Alley. "Oh," I breathed. It was magnificent. There was no other way to describe it. The shops were in all shapes and sizes, sky-scrapers to squat, thatch-roofed huts. The noise was incredible and glorious – the screeching of animals, the chiming of strange objects I had never seen, clanging as a stack of pots were set down in the street, the hum of odd instruments being examined by a tall, hook-nosed witch…

"If you would pick your jaw up off the ground, I'd like to get going."

I closed my mouth sharply, scowling at Cormac. _He got over that quick_, I thought, watching as he stepped through the archway, chin held high as if he owned the place. I followed quickly after him, hoping the archway wouldn't close. I wouldn't put it past him to leave me behind.

"We'll start at Olivander's," Cormac started to say.

"He's still around?" I blurted out, excited.

Cormac gave me a withered look. "I doubt that man will ever die," he said. "Yes, he's still around. He probably should have retired a decade ago, but he loves his work too much. Turn left up here." He grabbed my arm to stop me from stumbling into a pot filled with… wait, were those _skulls_? He pulled me away too quickly for me to make sure, and pushed me through a door.

A bell chimed in the shop as we stepped in. Shelves lined the walls, extending beyond sight into the back of the shop. There was a clear circle in the center of the room, where the light from the street spilled onto a faded red rug. A smooth, dark desk was set just out of range of the light, with one straight-back chair behind it and another before it. The shelves were almost shedding dust, the carpet so laden with it that clouds rose up when we stepped, but the desk and the windows were gleaming. _A charm?_ I thought. _There's no way those would stay clean without–_

"Welcome," a voice said behind me.

I jumped and spun around in surprise. Cormac turned calmly and extended his hand. "Mr. Olivander," he said.

The man peered up at him over the rim of his silver glasses. "Cormac, if my memory still serves me correctly," he said, shaking his hand.

"It does," Cormac said, a glimmer of a smile playing along his lips.

"Twelve and a half inches, elm and dragon heart string, correct?" Olivander spoke so swiftly and excitedly I almost laughed. _He does like his work too much,_ I thought. "And quite rigid, if I remember correctly." Olivander peered up at him again, his eyes narrowed. "You aren't _forcing_ it, are you? You must _guide_ it, or it will snap."

Cormac inclined his head respectfully, although there was a hint of irritation in his eyes. "Of course, sir."

Olivander nodded slowly, apparently satisfied. "And who is this young lady?" He turned to me, his eyebrows raised almost into the cloud of puffy hair surrounding his head. He extended his hand.

"Erin Marwick," I said quickly, shaking his hand as well.

Before I could pull away, however, he flipped it over and inspected my palm, his wrinkled brow furrowing as his gaze swept over it. "A bit old for your first wand," he stated, looking up at me again. "Are you one of the Lost?"

My mind darted around, trying to remember that phrase. The woman… the selkie… had spoken it before I had been taken away. "Y-yes, sir," I stuttered, struggling to come back to reality. I couldn't drift back into memory-lane here.

"Hmm…" He pulled out his own wand – a somewhat frail, but highly polished wand – and waved it briefly. A measuring tape uncoiled itself from off the desk and flew at me. I flinched as it began measuring along my arms. Meanwhile, Olivander began pulling boxes off of shelves.

"You have an American accent," he said.

Cormac's eyes were gleaming with amusement as he watched me squirm uncomfortably. The measuring tape was draping itself around my shoulders, slithered along my collarbone, then dove to the floor to measure my height. I kept getting the sensation that a snake was inspecting me, looking for the right place to bite. "Yes, sir," I said, cringing as the measuring tape coiled around my hips, then shimmied from my waist to my chest. _A boa constrictor?_ I thought nervously as it wrapped around my neck.

"And you were living there when you were discovered?"

"Y-yes." The measuring tape was definitely snake-like. It slithered down my arm in spirals. _What can it be measuring now?_ I wondered, glaring at it.

"Unusual for you to be out in England, then," Olivander mused. He tilted a box to the side, then pushed it back on the shelf and pulled three more out from above it. "Which school are you attending?"

"Hogwarts, sir." I winced as the measuring tape glided between my fingers of my right hand, then leapt over to my left.

Olivander let loose a low whistle – it sounded more like the hoot of an owl. "You must have strong magic for a Lost," he said, striding over to the desk with his arms full.

I didn't reply. I was eyeing the tape, which had bound my wrists together at one end. The other end was creeping slowly through the air towards my face, making me cross my eyes.

"Cormac," Olivander said, opening one of the boxes and inspecting the wand. "Put your wand away and leave her alone."

The measuring tape went limp and I turned to glare at Cormac, who was sliding his wand into the cane with a click. He glanced out the window, a smirk dancing across his face. I pulled off the tape measure and, resisting the urge to throw it at Cormac, handed it back to Olivander. He exchanged it for a wand. "Willow and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches," he said. "Nice and flexible."

I stared at it, trying to decide what to do. I started to wave it, but Olivander snatched it from my fingers. "No, no… Pine and phoenix feather, nine and three-quarters inch, a bit bendy. Give it a wave."

I flicked it at Cormac, hoping it would work. Nothing happened. Olivander chuckled softly and exchanged it for another one. "Towards the shelves would be safer. Yew and unicorn hair, ten inches and a quarter inch, rather supple… Redwood and dragon heart string, twelve and a half inches, stiff… Pear and dragon heart string, eleven inches, brittle…

"Ah." He paused as he opened the next box.

Cormac glanced over as he hesitated and I saw Olivander's eyes flicked up towards him, then quickly back down. He raised the wand almost cautiously and held it towards me. "Ebony and dragon heart string," he said. "Ten and three-quarters inch, unusually springy – it will always return to its true shape and form."

As I took it, I felt a sort of spark jolt up from it. I didn't even need to wave it fully – as soon as I moved it to the side, it let forth a stream of red sparks, gliding swiftly as I moved it before me.

"Hmm…" Olivander was not looking at me. Instead, he was staring at Cormac with the most peculiar expression on his face. "Were you the one who found her?"

Cormac inclined his head, a wary look creeping into his eyes.

Olivander frowned slightly and turned to me. "The wand that has chosen you… is the brother to Cormac's wand. They share the same core."

I stared at him, surprised. I was aware of Cormac tightening his grip on his own wand, but I ignored him as Olivander continued. "But the most unusual thing is the circumstances of retrieving these cores. The dragon in question… ripped his heart out and _offered_ it to me."

I felt the blood drain out of my face at the thought. Cormac, however, spoke softly. "One of the last Fae dragons," he said quietly.

Olivander inclined his head. "I believe so. Most dragons have become beast-like, but this one certainly had… intelligence." Olivander closed his eyes at the memory, his frown deepening. "It told me – spoke in my mind – that he needed the wands for the sake of his children. And then… it died laughing." He opened his eyes and met mine. "Perhaps it was a dream," he said. "Laughing like that… Or perhaps it saw more than it would say. Ancient dragons were often known for their prophecies. Either way…" He leaned in close and wrapped my fingers tightly around my wand. "You are headed into most… unusual destiny, I am sure." He smiled.

_Unusual,_ I thought, confused. _What is that supposed to mean?_ I shook my head, trying to snap out of the gaze.

Cormac recovered sooner than I did. He thanked Olivander and paid him while I stood there, staring at my wand. I quickly tucked it into my front pocket when Cormac barked at me, holding the door open. I shook my head one more time and turned around to thank Olivander as well, but he had already disappeared into the depths of his shop.

"Thanks," I called anyway, hoping he would hear it. Then I stepped out into the sunlight.

Cormac glanced at me as I stood beside him in front of the shop. "Don't read too much into it," he said in a harsh voice that made me jump. "Human senses are usually dim – very few have the magical sense to hear thoughts – and Olivander is ancient. You and I are not bound in _any_ way." He swiftly moved back towards the main road without another word.

I stared at his back, perplexed. _What is he talking about?_ I thought. After a moment, I chose to push the information aside for now. I had enough to deal with already – I didn't need a cryptic story occupying my mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for taking so long! Just a college paper and a test – a bit overwhelming sometimes… Anyways, before I allow school to take over my life again, I decided to write another chapter! I didn't intend this at first, but my story does contain a few references to **_**Labyrinth**_**… No, that doesn't mean I while be putting Cormac or anyone else into tight pants. As ever, Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling now and forever. Enjoy, and please comment!**

**Oh, and I know how many wonderful authors decide to leave little intros and such at the beginning of their writing…. So… "Before we begin… I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you." – Albus Dumbledore **

I stared longingly at the owls as we passed, slowing to the point that Cormac looked back at me. "No," he said flatly.

"Won't I have to send you letters or something?" I asked, eyeing one of the tawny owls. It puffed its feathers at me and cocked its head. _Cute!_ I thought with glee.

Cormac gave a low chuckle. Something about it made me cringe and I looked over to see him give me a slow grin. _His teeth are pointed,_ I realized with a shudder. _Why hadn't I noticed before?_ "I've got my own surprise method for our… communication." His eyes gleamed as he turned back to the street.

The exchange shook me. I followed him silently until he turned and entered another shop – Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

A woman looked up from the counter. _I'm guessing Madam Malkin is retired,_ I thought. _This must be her daughter._ The woman looked to be in her mid-thirties and had her blond hair drawn back into a messy bun. She looked at Cormac with a blank expression. His mouth turned down slightly and he turned back to grab my shoulder. I flinched as his slightly-pointed fingernails dug into me as he pulled me forward. "One of the Lost," he said. "Attending Hogwarts."

Her face relaxed. "Come with me, then," she said to me. "We'll get you measured."

"Already taken care of." Cormac whipped out a piece of paper. "These should be adequate."

I stared at Cormac as the woman took the proffered paper. _When…?_ I thought. _That tape measure at Olivander's. _My stare turned into a scowl. _Why that sly, perverted scum bag! How dare–_

Cormac ignored me and continued to speak to the woman. "The list also requires formal attire."

_More debt,_ I thought, wincing slightly. I had been to a couple high school dances, and dresses weren't cheap.

The woman nodded, scanning the paper. "I'll start on the robes." She gestured to the side. "Feel free to look at the dresses – they're just past the dressing rooms." She quickly turned and disappeared behind a curtain to the left of the desk.

I gritted my teeth as we headed over. "Can I see that list?" I asked, trying very hard to control my irritation.

Cormac smirked and handed over the list. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of surprise.

_Ignore him,_ I told myself. _Just ignore the… the _brute. I skimmed the list. _Books, scales, potion ingredients, cauldron… There it is. _I slowed down to read the clothing. _Three sets of plain black robes, pointed black hat, protective gloves, winter cloak… Ah. _There was a note underneath. _"In the upcoming year, three balls will be held – one specifically for students already of age and two for students in general. Formal attire will be required. For year-round students, it is recommended that more than one outfit be purchased as more events are anticipated in the next few years."_

"Three should be enough," Cormac said, beginning to flip through the gowns.

"_Three_?" I spluttered, looking at him incredulously. "Are you nuts?"

He glanced at me. "I thought women liked _pretty things_," he said, his tone amused.

"It's expensive," I said. "And excessive. I only need one."

"Two are recommended," he countered. "Consider the third one… a _gift_. For your scholarship." He pulled out a turquoise gown and held it up in front of me. "Hmm… This one makes your eyes bulge," he said in an absurdly cheerful tone.

My jaw dropped. "You're… unbelievable," I said, disgusted. _This_ was his humor? And I was going to have to stand four more days of living with him? I turned to the dresses and started searching through them. _He's as bipolar as they come_, I thought bitterly, pausing to look at a yellow gown that was exploding with tool. _Going from terrifying the heck out of me to wanting to by dresses… Are all of his kind like this? Fae or Fair-Folk or whatever he is… _I glanced at him. He was scrutinizing an orange dress with such seriousness I almost smiled. _He certainly is different,_ I thought, turning back to the dresses.

We bought three dresses in the end, all magically fitted as I stood on a pedestal in the changing room. I couldn't talk Cormac out of buying three, but I can't say that I didn't like them. There was a light green dress, semi-transparent silk forming short, delicate sleeves, the same material layered like petals down the dress – tight along the waist and flaring out slightly at the hips, the material cascading to the floor, deep purple dress, mermaid-cut, bare on one shoulder and bound up in a delicate blossom on the other, and the third a deep red, black-trimmed sleeveless dress with a corset-like bodice and ruffled skirts.

I tried hard not to listen to the price that the woman told Cormac as she added up the prices of the clothing. But I heard it anyways – one-hundred and seventy-seven galleons and fourteen sickles. I wasn't sure what that was in American dollars, but the sound of it made me wince literally. With a sigh, Cormac pulled out a pen and signed a check.

_Does he really like fashion?_ I thought as Cormac waved his wand over the clothing. It disappeared – to his mansion, I assumed. _Even if you have an agenda – spying at Hogwarts and such – who would purchase those dresses that quickly?_ I turned to follow Cormac out the door, but paused as I saw the woman shake her head, muttering to herself. "Flamboyant Fair Folk," she said under her breath. "Why are they all like that?" She glanced up and saw me staring. Forcing a smile, she inclined her head, then disappeared behind the curtain again.

_Is it in his nature, then? _I thought, staring bemused at Cormac as he moved into another shop - Slug & Jiggers Apothecary. _Flamboyant. That's the word. _It explained why Cormac insisted in dressing in a suit to go shopping. And the way he held himself, poised even as he inspected a jar of maggots.

"The list," Cormac said, interrupting my thoughts. I jerked, startled at his voice. He raised an eyebrow and held out a hand. Swiftly, he tore off the end of the list and handed the bottom half to me. "Flourish and Blotts is around the corner. Get the books." He reached in the pouch in his pocket and counted out fifteen galleons. "This should be more than enough," he said, placing them into my hand. "I'll know if you spend more than necessary," he added, his eyes flickering dangerously.

"I'm not a child," I said, pocketing the coins. I frowned at him as he continued to eye me. "You can trust me with this much at least."

"Hm." He looked away. "Meet me in front of Gringotts when you've finished. I need to run a few errands after purchasing the rest of your supplies, so _don't wander off._" He finished the statement with another glare, then strode off into the crowd.

I made a face at his back and turned to look for the book store. _He's going to be in my head tonight anyways, won't he?_ I thought, a feeling of bitterness sinking in. _I don't know why he bothers with the warnings – he'll know if I disobey him. _I let out a long breath and began to weave through the crowd.

The bookstore at least was quiet. Although it looked unbelievably small from the street, the inside was nearly twice as large as the public library I was used to. I gazed at the shelves in awe, then glanced down at the authors and began searching through the books. As I found each book, though, I kept my eyes peeled for the words that had been puzzling me. I was surrounded by books – one of them should tell me what the "Fae" and "Fair Folk" were.

I paused as I pulled _Fantastical Beasts and Where to Find Them_ from the shelf. There, beside the half-a-dozen copies of the red leather-bound _Fantastical Beasts_, was a slim green book. In spiraling gold letters was the title: _A Guide to the World of the Fae._

_That was easy,_ I thought, pulling the book from its place. Glancing around – making sure that I wouldn't get in anyone else's way as I read – I set down my pile of books and flipped the volume open. "Fair Folk, Fair Folk," I mumbled to myself, flipping through the pages, my eyes scanning for the world. Only a few pages in, I found it. Taking a deep breath, trying to clear my thoughts – I didn't want Cormac to get my reaction in addition to knowing that I was researching him – I began reading.

"Fae are the magical creatures in the world gifted with 'human' intelligence," it read. "Common creatures include goblins, house-elves, centaurs, veela, and merfolk. When magic roamed wild, there was a government established by the Fae to govern over themselves and to insure that the lesser creatures would not overtake the growing human population. The Fair Folk – creatures that have existed, as far as we can tell, since the beginning of time itself – were established as the rulers of the Fae. Even with the current magical ministries established, the Fair Folk continue to govern the realms of the Fae and hold high positions of influence over the Fae dwelling in human-populated areas as well.

"The Fair Folk appear human, but certain traits can help identify them – pointed ears, pointed teeth, and pointed nails being the most distinctive. Most wear their hair long, although it is not certain whether that is merely cultural or if it is to increase their magical abilities. They possess an unusual amount of balance – as the saying goes, a cat may always land on its feet, but the Fair Folk can land on a single finger. In the interractions with humans, Fair Folk have been noted to take a high interest in rare and expensive items, especially exceptionally impressive clothing."

_That explains a lot,_ I thought to myself about the clothing, but my mind kept drifting back to the idea of Cormac landing on his finger like an acrobat. I covered my mouth to stifle a giggle and read on.

"There is much mystery concerning the magical abilities the Fair Folk possess. There is a certain binding in their words – if one makes a deal with one of the Fair Folk, the words cannot be broken on either end without dire consequences. Fair Folk have the unusual ability to create portals, allowing them to pass barriers that prevent apperation. They also possess the ability to manipulate dreams. Halflings born of a union between Fair Folk and human can wield wands, but their magic is often too wild for a wand to contain and results in much damage when it looses control.

"There have been many interactions with muggles in the past. The Fair Folk appear in a variety of muggle legends. Muggles described them – and often worshiped them – as godlike creatures. At times, the Fair Folk would ask the muggles to sacrifice people to them in exchange for protection from other magical creatures. The blood of the sacrifices was often used in dark magic that–"

I felt ill, the image of the blood of the witch coming into my mind. Cormac could use my blood as well… I glanced down again, seeing if there was any more useful information.

"Several of the Fair Folk have managed to make themselves famous even in modern times by influencing the dreams of various humans. One of the most flamboyant, Jareth the ruler of the Goblin realm, managed to influence the muggle film-maker Jim Henson into creating a series of grotesque, moving pictures designed to inspire fear in the minds of muggles everywhere–"

I closed the book and put it back on the shelf. I didn't need to read about dancing magic today. I had spent enough time reading – if I didn't hurry, Cormac would wonder where I was. I quickly pulled the last few books from the shelves, paid for them at the counter, and stepped out into the streets.

I glanced up and down the streets. I could clearly see Gringotts to my left, but from what I could see, Cormac wasn't there yet. Cormac had headed off in the other direction… I glanced to my right, thinking. _He wouldn't kill me for window-shopping, right?_ I thought. _It's my first time in Diagon Alley, and I probably won't be able to come back in a while… A scolding would be worth it…_ I glanced back towards Gringotts, then hefted the bags and started in the other direction.

I had just turned the corner when I found it – the sight that was "worth it." I nearly dropped my bags as I stared at the bright, flashing colors. The shock had me frozen for a moment. Then I felt a gleeful grin spread across my face. _It exists!_ I thought excitedly, still staring at it. _It's really… real! Oh my gosh!_

"I told you _Gringotts,_" Cormac barked behind me, his voice becoming louder as he approached me through the crowd. I ignored him, still staring. "Are you dumb in the physical sense as well as the mental?"

When he finally reached my side, I turned and stared at him with hopeful eyes. "Please?" I said before he could say anything about my expression.

He looked at me, then up at the shop, then back to me. I'll admit it – I was doing the stupid puppy-eye expression. I was humiliating myself to that extent all for the chance that I could enter that wonderful place. Cormac's mouth twitched slightly – I couldn't tell if it was in amusement or disgust – and he finally pulled out his wand and gave it a flick. The books disappeared from my arms. "Ten minutes," he said swiftly, replacing his wand. "_Ten_ minutes."

I almost sprinted my way to the store. I didn't care if I couldn't buy anything – how many chances was I going to get to see Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?


	6. Chapter 6

**Yes. You can hate me and all that stuff for not posting FOREVER. To put it politely, I walked with Hades for a couple of weeks and I'm still trying to put out the fires. BUT I'm doing okay now. And I've got some lovely experiences to make the story more interesting later on (no, Erin is not a copy of me, but that doesn't mean that I can't make her go through the same stuff terrorizing my life! Mwahahaha! *and all those evil author laughs*) Here you go, my lovely readers! Enjoy and please comment!**

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

The first thing that hit me when I entered the shop were the colors. I blinked a few times to clear my head, but everything was decorated in colors so blaring, it was like stepping into a cartoon. There were flaming red signs ahead floating above a large assortment of boxes, the words "Skiving Snackboxes" scrolling across it, followed by "New: Gout Gum!"

_Ew,_ I thought.

Just to the left of that was a large green sign with the words "Board Games" on it. The table held a reusable hangman walking up the gallows and a battleship game – angry soldiers shouting profanities at each other on deck as the shifts drifted past each other, cannons at the ready. Next to it, beside the window, was a large array of bottles, boxes, and tubes in a blinding bubble-gum pink, the sign on the wall identifying them as the WonderWitch Products. Beside them was a cage of the fluffy pigmy-puffs that cooed in my direction.

I stared for a moment at the pigmy puffs, a gleeful smile tugging on my lips, then turned to the right to see what else there was. "School Supplies." I full-out grinned at the sign, watching as uninformed students scrambled over the letters, running from teachers afflicted by various pranks. A bald man's mustache was sprouting down past his knees, his legs getting tangled as he pursued a gleeful looking dark-skinned girl. A severe looking witch with flaming pink hair chasing a red-headed boy, waving her wand desperately, then tossing it aside when it turned into a rubber chicken.

_Brilliant,_ I thought, wandering over to the section and scanning over the items. There was a set of glasses that, with a tap of the frame, would allow you to see through the eyes of your neighbor, making it easy to look off their paper. There were several kinds of trick-chalk, one that would cause the words written by the teacher appear on the chalkboard in the classroom over, another that changed all the words to food-related items, and another that would move the letters when the teacher's back was turned to form a moving image of the teacher, but with the expressions of a twelve-year old.

There was an entire section devoted to quills in various colors and sizes. Each type was in a different colored jar and labeled to describe the usage. Curious, I looked through them. There were self-correcting quills, quills that animated doodles on the side of notes, and vanishing quills that would return to your book-bag after five minutes of being borrowed by another student. _Those would be useful_, I thought, eying them. My eyes drifted to the side and I brushed the quills in the next container with my fingers. "Daydream Quills," they said.

"Hands off there, girl," a man said behind me. I jumped and spun around. A lanky man stood there in a bright plum suit. His red hair peaking out from under his top hat was streaked with strands of white, but his grin made him seem ten years younger. "Ten seconds of contact and you'll start to drift," he said. "If someone says your name, it jolts you right out, but otherwise you could stay in a stupor for hours."

"Sorry," I said quickly, trying to stop my gawking, but my giddiness must have been showing again.

His grin broadened. "First time in Diagon Alley?" He guessed.

"Yes," I said nervously.

He swept off his hat and stooped in a dramatic bow. "George Weasley at your service," he said. His hair parted slightly as he rose, revealing a crumpled hole where his ear should have been. He replaced his top hat and his hair covered it once more. "You have an American accent," he said. "Are you visiting England?"

I swallowed, trying to shake myself out of my daze._ Stop being surprised by everyone here_, I scolded myself. _You stand out enough as it is._ "Actually, I'm starting Hogwarts next week," I said with a smile.

His eyes shifted slightly, a tinge of sadness creeping in. I wanted to kick myself. _Crap. I just brought up Hogwarts with George. He probably hasn't been there since the battle… I just reminded George of Fred! What kind of heartless moron am I?_

But he continued to grin. "Interested in tormenting a few teachers?"

I did my best to return the grin, still scolding myself. "Perhaps."

"We have a wonderful fertilizer that causes the roots of trees to have a tendency to hoist people into the air by their ankles. I think your Herbology class could use a bit of chaos – I haven't heard Longbottom complain about trouble in a while."

"She won't be causing trouble." I grimaced as Cormac stepped out from around the corner, scowling at me. "I said _ten_ minutes," he said to me.

George glanced at Cormac and rolled his eyes. "So you're the tour-guide," he said, tucking his hands and turning to Cormac with a lopsided grin.

"Babysitter," he corrected, scowling at me.

I would have scowled back, but I was watching George take out his hand. There was something small and white attached to his palm, but before I could see what it was, George patted Cormac on the shoulder. "Best of luck, mate," he said, his tone sympathetic, but he winked at me quickly.

"Hmm." Cormac was still scowling at me, then he turned away. "Let's go."

I grinned. Whatever George had put on Cormac's back was causing silver thread to embroider the word "killjoy" onto Cormac's coat, a thin needle tugging through the cloth even as Cormac strode towards the door. "You're brilliant," I said to George, whose eyes had resumed their twinkle.

"It was Fred's invention," he said in an undertone to me. He passed me a small handful of papers. "Take them. It'll get you through the weekend." He winked at me again and strode off into the shop, whistling cheerily.

I pocketed the papers. _Cormac will find out where they are,_ I realized as I exited the shop. _Maybe if I hide them with my eyes closed?_

Cormac was waiting for me on the corner. "Enjoy yourself?"

I paused at his tone. He actually seemed to be asking a genuine question. "Yes," I said carefully, watching him.

He avoided my gaze. "Good." He started down the street. "We'll be exiting through Knockturn Alley. Stay close."

I frowned slightly as I followed. I knew that the incident at the Leaky Cauldron bothered him, but I didn't think that it warranted going through Knockturn Alley. It was supposed to be dangerous there, right?

Dusk was falling as we turned the corner. I listened to the cheerful calls of Diagon Alley fade as we passed onto paths bordered by much less brightly-colored shops. There were no longer labels on the various jars in the windows we passed, and some of the slime and bottled objects appeared much more…human. I swallowed hard and stepped closer behind Cormac as I caught sight of a jar of what appeared to be a still-pulsing heart being sold to a humpbacked witch with cracked, yellow teeth. The size was just right to have been taken out of someone about my size… I shuddered.

We turned left. Cormac had to stoop slightly to pass under a low archway. The air became colder with every step I took. Something suddenly brushed my leg. I jumped and glanced down, but kept walking. There didn't appear to be anything there. There were only shadows. Then I felt it again, and distinctly saw a dark shape press up against my leg, a feeling like jagged claws were grazing over my jeans, before it faded back into the shadows.

I wanted to speak, but instead I choked. My breathing became more frantic. I picked up my pace, eyeing the shadows around me. If it wasn't a trick of the light, they were getting closer.

"Loosen your grip." Cormac's voice had me jump and I stared at him with wild eyes. I hadn't realized that I had seized his arm while walking. I tried to tell myself to let go, but the shadows began tugging at my legs. I jumped, yearning to bolt, but I wasn't about to move an inch from the only protection I had.

Cormac glanced down and sighed. He slipped his arm from his jacket and pulled my hands away from his other arm and holding them with his cane so he could finish taking it off. He paused when he saw the embroidery on the back of his jacket, but then passed it over to me. "Put this on and tuck your wand in the inside pocket," he said. "It'll protect you since they don't recognize you yet."

He dropped my wrists. Still trembling, I pulled the jacket on and took my wand out of my back pocket. For a moment, the shadows seemed to leer at me, rising up in rage as my fingers gripped the smooth handle of my wand. But as soon as I tucked it into Cormac's jacket, the shadows settled, a soft rustle coming from them as they faded back toward the walls.

I sighed and glanced up at Cormac to thank him. The words froze on my lips. Cormac's face was blank, but his eyes had changed. They weren't filled the irritation or amusement that I had come to recognize. They weren't even filled with the rage when I had caught me attempting to escape his bonds at the office. They were filled with hatred. The intensity hit me with such force I couldn't find my strength. It took my will to keep my legs from giving out from under me. Then the moment passed and Cormac turned away, stepping to the door of one of the shops. "Follow when you've collected yourself," he said before opening the door and walking in.

My knees gave way. I fell to the ground, shivering. _What was that?_ I thought, swallowing mouthfuls of air in a vain attempt to take back the breath that had been driven from me. _What did I do to bring _that_ on?_ I forced myself to calm down. _Four days_, I reminded myself. _You only need to live with him for four more days. Hogwarts will be better. Hogwarts will keep you safe._

_Until you help him burn it down once more._

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

When I entered the shop, Borgin and Burkes, Cormac was waiting beside the fireplace, leaning against the wall. He didn't look at me – he simply pulled out a small box and held it out towards me. "After you," he said.

I took a pinch of flew powder and tossed it into the fire. "The mansion of Cormac, son of Dara," I said. I stepped into the flames. The tugging and spinning began again, but I kept the advice of the man from the Leaky Cauldron and kept stepping forward. After a moment, I stepped out onto the rug in Cormac's mansion. I stumbled, but at least I didn't face-plant into the carpet.

I smiled slightly at the success and turned as I heard the rush of the flames behind me. Before I could even see Cormac, his hand covered my face, hiding him from view. Startled, I reached to move his hand. "Don't," he said. "Give me a moment."

I swallowed, but there was something hard in his tone that prevented me from protesting. We stood there for a moment, the silence broken only by our breathing and the crackling of the fire. Finally, I could help but ask. "Do you hate me?" I asked softly.

"What makes you ask that?"

"Your expression when you saved me from those…shadows."

He was silent for a moment. "Probably," he said quietly, his voice unusually sincere.

Another moment passed. "Why?"

He let out a long breath. I wished I could see his expression, but at the same time, I was afraid of what I might find there. His hand still covered my eyes. Why didn't he want me to see? Was he wondering if he should kill me?

"I won't hurt you," he said.

_I forgot he could read minds,_ I thought.

"Only to a certain extent, not word for word."

_Why, then? Why do you hate me?_

"Because you have everything I wish I could have had, everything I _would_ have had, had my father been human."

_Half-Folk. I forgot. The first night I was here… Was it really only yesterday?_

Silence reigned once again. At last, he lowered his hand, but he kept his back towards me. "My jacket," he said, holding out his hand.

I removed my wand and handed back the jacket. He tucked it smoothly on top of a chair and continued speaking. Not once did he turn toward me. "Trill has already packed your belongings in a trunk," he said. "Keep yourself occupied. You may read if you wish, even practice magic, but stay out of my way. And don't complain – you should feel fortunate that I did not act on my instinct and put you to sleep for the next four days."

_His hand,_ I realized. _Then… what stopped him?_

Cormac let out a strangled laugh. "I don't know," he said. Then, after a pause, "You should leave." There was an edge to his voice I couldn't explain. It seemed more like a plea than a warning.

I swallowed hard and walked to the door. I glanced back before closing it – Cormac had his arm stretched above him, his fist pressed against the wall above the mantle place as he stared into the flames. He whispered something, and in the flickering light of the fire, I could read the words that fell from his lips:

"Everything's starting to change."


	7. Chapter 7

…**I have "homework block"…so I'm writing this. :) Enjoy!**

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Those four days were excessively dull. Dinner that night was eaten in awkward silence, broken only by Cormac asking me to come closer so he could practice making the copy of my memories again. The processes was as uncomfortable as the first time and I doubted that it would get any better. The next day, I started several of my textbooks, which… well, even though they were magic, they were still textbooks. They weren't exactly made for light reading. I did finally find out what was on page three-hundred and ninety-four, though. And I tried out a few of the spells. I accidently lit the rug on fire in my bedroom on the third day (I was aiming for the fireplace). While I was leafing through the books in a panic for the spell for water, Trill popped up, extinguished the flames with a flick of her finger, and told me that lunch was ready. I thought I saw Cormac hide a smile when he watched my memories that evening, but he didn't say anything.

Just as I was about to leave, however, he spoke. "I have a meeting with some… _colleagues_ of mine in London tomorrow."

_Colleagues?_ I thought, pressing my lips together. _Are they members of the rebellion?_

"Consequently," Cormac continued, "I can't be here to see you off to Hogwarts via flew-powder."

"I could do it myself," I said under my breath.

He frowned slightly and narrowed his eyes at me. "No. It'll be too much of a temptation for you to get…_lost_. And I'd rather not have you put through that temptation – there aren't many replacements for a spy in Hogwarts."

My stomach churned and I looked down at the floor.

"So you are going to have to take the train."

I felt my heart skip a beat. "But isn't Kings Cross Station a tourist attraction now?" I asked.

He snorted. "Yes, after that woman wrote those books. There's a barrier when you get close to it. Once you pass it, everyone with magical blood all of a sudden doesn't seem to be of interest. It does help the ministry find muggleborns – if someone is immune to the barrier and sees you walk through stone, then it shows that they have magical blood. Not too unlike your circumstances."

_Except most people don't see someone dying when they see past that barrier,_ I thought.

"We will leave the mansion tomorrow morning at nine. The train departs at eleven. I will drop you off at the platform and you can keep yourself occupied – _without _lighting anything on fire, if you will – until the train arrives." Then he turned his attention to a stack of papers on his right and was silent.

_Why don't I just light _you_ on fire?_ I thought at him. Perhaps it was too specific if Cormac couldn't read minds word-for-word, but Cormac chose not to respond. Or maybe he had his thought-antennae off.

"Leave," he said suddenly, looking up at me with a scowl. "Your presence is irritating."

I grimaced at him, turned on my heel, and left the room. _That was uncalled for_, I thought as I walked – well, stomped – back down the hallway. My thoughts drifted back to the conversation in front of the fireplace. _Is it really jealousy that makes him act this way?_ I thought. _He's using me as a spy. I'm supposed to be a tool. It would make sense if he was frustrated if his "tool" had more privileges than he outside…our contract. But then…_ I remembered his patient instructions behind me when I was performing that test for Ms. Hall, his teasing at Olivander's, the way he protected me from the shadows, and then the other night, with his hand pressed over my eyes… He had hesitated to take away my consciousness for convenience. It wasn't like it would have caused me harm and, as he had just stated so bluntly, my presence was "irritating" to him. He didn't hesitate to show it. But at the same time, these small gestures weren't as impassive as perhaps they ought to be, considering the circumstances. If he was supposed to be treating me as a tool, he was failing.

I reached my room and slipped inside, closing the door softly behind me. _Is that the reason for his confusion?_ I wondered. I crossed to my bed and lay down, staring up at the ceiling. _He's treating me… well, as if I'm a human._ I laughed to myself at that. _Whereas others who have fallen in his power…_ The sharpness of another memory came back and all humor died. I covered my mouth as bile threatened to rise – the image of the witch's neck breaking, the blood spraying, the frothing mouth of the kelpie…

_I shouldn't be worried about him_, I thought, turning onto my side, my mouth still pressed shut. _The woman who died…_that_ is what Cormac does. He's probably murdered more than a few witches and wizards himself. But I can't let myself forget._ My eyes closed and I strained to push the images of blood from my mind. _He's the enemy._

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

If I watch a horror movie, I don't have a nightmare that night. It takes a few days for the images to sink in and for my mind to warp them into something gruesome enough that the filmmakers of said horror movie would be screaming at. So after witnessing the murder of the witch, it took me until the night before I left for Hogwarts for the nightmares to begin. Of course, the first nightmare was not experienced as the innocent bystander whose life was overturned into chaos. Instead, I was the witch.

I could almost sense I was in a dream at first. I was walking the streets of London – although how I knew it was London, I had no idea. Although my body in my dream seemed strode with familiarity, these were streets I had never seen before. Then there was a small "pop" behind me. I didn't bother turning – my heart began pounding then. _They've found you,_ was the thought that came before I was running. Any sort of distance I had from the dream-self was closed in our shared panic. I bolted down the street, dodged the corner, and twisted, apparating about thirty feet before a mansion. I relaxed, but there was another pop and this time I caught sight of it before I started running. It was a short man dressed in a dark green suit, his sharp, yellow teeth gleaming. "The boarders will be lowered," he called. His short legs must have been pumping at a ridiculous pace because his voice suggested he was not far behind me. "Regardless of whether or not _you _have any say of it."

"Monster!" I hissed, turning again. I apparated again, this time appearing in front of a small, red-brick hut placed at the end of a muggle alleyway. I looked behind me and relaxed. _They can't have found all the safe houses,_ I thought with satisfaction, turning back to face the hut.

"We don't have to."

My eyes widened. "You," I whispered.

Cormac leaned back against the brick, rolling what appeared to be a small glass ball over his hand, his cane resting against his leg. "Aren't we past the clichés already?" he said calmly. He met my eyes and I was filled once again with that terror as I saw that refined hatred in his eyes. Not even a glimmer of anything like mercy lay in their blue depths.

_How?_ was the only thought that came to mind, and he addressed the thought with ease, continuing to spin the crystal.

"Humans aren't the only ones that can place _tracking devices_ on those they deem inferior," he said, the loathing creeping through his calm.

My hand darted to my wand. _How dare this _creature_ claim that he is superior to mankind!_ The thought screamed. I had no words as I thrust my wand in his direction.

Cormac paused and tilted his head. "How are you superior, human?" he asked, the crystal resting lightly in his palm. "Continuing on clichés – you are powerless. There is nothing you can do to stop me." He tossed the crystal at me almost playfully.

Furiously, yet confidently, I flicked my wand, hissing, "Reducto!" The crystal _should_ have shattered, but my wand didn't even let loose a spark. The crystal hit me in the face and suddenly Cormac's voice filled my mind, chilling amusement tainting his voice as I screamed in pain.

"Run, run, _run_, little witchy," he said mockingly. "Kin or kindred, friend or foe, no one can protect you now that you've been marked."

I was scrambling blindly away in panic, running into the walls as I fled, but I could feel him behind me. Could he follow me out of the country? My sister had married an American – perhaps I could find him. I mustered my strength and twisted, thinking of the college I had to walk through to get to their reception.

The crack in the night as I appeared faded into silence. I caught sight of a pair of startled eyes – human, hazel eyes – watching me from beneath a tree. _A muggle,_ I thought. _Well, if obliviating her memories is the worst of the damage–_

Then something erupted behind me. I didn't even have time to turn. Pain shot through me, a sickening crack coming from behind – somehow I knew it was the crack of my own bones. There was a brief sensation of wetness slipping down my shoulders. Then I faded, Cormac's triumphant laughter heralding me into the darkness.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

I jerked awake, panting, my hand instinctively going to the back of my neck. It was intact. I covered my face, not sure whether the relief or lingering terror was the dominant emotion moving me to do so. _That poor woman._ My mind was slowly coming back to reality. _Were those… her memories? I never saw what they did with her body. But if Cormac copied her memories, maybe there's some sort of… cross-contamination from copying mine as well._

I fumbled around in the dark for my suitcase and dug out the watch. After another moment of fumbling, I fetched my wand from the bedside table and concentrated. As I felt the hints of power move through me, I whispered, "Lumos." The tip of my wand flared too brightly for a moment, but it dimmed quickly to the light I intended it to have. I checked the time. It was just half-past four in the morning. I sighed and held up the light, staring as it shimmered. There was no way I was getting back to sleep.

I put my wand away and crawled over to the trunk beside the suitcase. Trill told me the morning after our trip to Diagon Alley that she would reorganize the trunk before we left so that the suitcase would fit in there as well, but it didn't look like it would need reorganization. The trunk was bigger on the inside, ridiculously so – even after all of my Hogwarts equipment was placed inside, it still looked like _I _could fit inside with the space left in it. I pushed through the books, holding my wand beside me.

Then I paused. There was something pressed up against the side of the trunk that I hadn't noticed before. At first, it just appeared to be part of the wood, but… I pulled it slightly back. It was a large, thin package – the back must have had some sort of illusionary charm put on it. The package was long and wouldn't have fit inside the trunk without magic. I guessed that it must have been about a foot taller than me, and twice as wide. There was a neat stamp at the top of it. I focused, willing the light from my wand to brighten just a bit. "Borgin and Burkes," I mouthed. So, Cormac had gone into the shop for more than just to transport us back to his mansion. I tried to guess what it was doing in my trunk. Then I remembered what he had told me when I was begging for an owl:

"I've got my own surprise method for our communication."

I felt curious, which I knew by now was a dangerous thing. I already wished I hadn't stayed to witness the death of the witch. If I opened this package now, I probably would regret that action as well. I pushed it back against the trunk, where I had found it, and pulled out the book that I had been looking for.

But of course the curiosity didn't go away. Neither did my sleeplessness. So I sat in my stubbornness, my eyes fixed blankly on the page before me, until Trill came to call me to breakfast.

I didn't eat much. I had too many emotions giving going through me for me to think clearly. I was going to Hogwarts, but I was going there to spy. Cormac's "present" worried me. And my exhaustion by that point had me swaying a bit in my seat as I poked at my food.

Five minutes to nine, Cormac stood up. "Let's go," he said, pulling on his suit jacket.

I stood up mutely and followed him through the hallway to the next room. My trunk was waiting beside the fireplace and I reached for it, but Cormac beat me to it. "You'd drop it," he said with a note of disgust. "You haven't figured out how to use flew powder well enough yet."

I pressed my lips together and watched as he tossed the powder into the flames. "Kings Cross Station," he said calmly, stepping through the flames, his trunk grasped his long fingers.

I sighed and waited a moment, then stepped through as well.

We came through in a fireplace inside what looked like an abandoned warehouse. There was a wizard standing watch next to the fireplace. Well, he was either a wizard or a very good cosplayer – he was dressed like Sir Conan Arthur Doyle's Sherlock Holmes and the clothes looked antique. "Move aside," he grumbled around a gritty looking pipe. "There's another lot coming in from Dover."

I stepped quickly out of the way, trailing after Cormac as he hefted my trunk onto a trolley and held it out for me. "Come on," he said.

_You're just acting all sour because you'll miss me,_ I joked to myself, not daring to let the words out of my mouth though.

"Hmph."

_Well, I finally got a reaction out of him,_ I thought.

We rounded the corner and joined the throng of people streaming towards the train. As I had thought, Kings Cross station was crowded with tourists, which increased as we got closer to the place between platforms nine and ten. There were so many people dressed with round glasses and lightening-bolt scars, I could have walked passed Harry Potter himself and wouldn't have known. Just to the side of the fake cart attached the brick, where the majority of tourists were gathering to pose for pictures, was another oddly dressed man. This one was dressed almost to the T like John Lennon. Cormac approached him and paused for me to catch up.

The John Lennon look-alike grimaced at Cormac and turned his eyes to me. "Do you have your ticket, miss?"

I glanced at Cormac and he pulled it out of his jacket and passed it to me. I held it up for the wizard to see, and he inclined his head. "Very good," he said. He moved aside and gestured for me to walk through the wall.

I turned to say goodbye, but all I caught was a glimpse of Cormac's dark hair fluttering in the breeze before he disappeared into the crowd. I frowned slightly. "Jerk," I muttered.

"Don't expect too much from the Fae," the John Lennon wizard said quietly, looking after Cormac as well. "I don't know what kind of relationship you two have, but you're bound to only be hurt in the end. Remember – _they're not human._"

I flushed. "We don't have any kind of relationship," I snapped, pulling the trolley back slightly. "I'd rather have nothing to do with him." I launched myself forward, plunging through the wall. There was a moment of darkness, then I stepped out onto a platform that was the perfect mirror of the one behind me, although this one was devoid of any crowds and held only a single, scarlet steam engine shining beneath the glassy dome above us. I stared in awe and glanced around. No one else was here yet. _Well,_ I thought to myself, _What do you expect? You're nearly two hours early._ I sighed and pushed the cart forward. It felt a bit weird not having Cormac around. It felt _better_ without him, without the constant reminder of my bond with him, but I wasn't used to it quite yet. _I can't wait until I _am_ used to not being around him,_ I thought, smiling suddenly. _Perhaps at Hogwarts, I can find a way to get out of this bargain. Besides…_ My smile broadened. _Magic. I'll be learning magic! Nothing can beat that._

Of course, that didn't mean that nothing couldn't beat me. About five minutes after I had found a compartment in the train and pushed my trunk into place above me (I was really liking this trunk – not only did it fit so much inside, but it wasn't heavier for it either), the sleeplessness of the night caught up with me and I slipped into unconcsiouness, sprawled comfortably across several seats.

I don't know how much time had passed when I heard the sharp click of the compartment door shutting. Something scampered across the floor, ducking under the seats. I blinked, squinting against the bright light. The train was moving, rumbling through the countryside. I sat up, dazed, and stared out the window. It was beautiful. I yawned and pushed my hair back, glancing under the seats. A small figure was huddled there, his black robes hiding him quite well in the shadows. The boy turned slightly and I found myself peering into a pair of excited, green eyes, half hidden beneath a mop of blonde hair. His tan face beamed at me. "I'm playing hide and seek," he said, pressing a finger to his lips.

"Really?" I asked, smiling at him.

Footsteps sounded outside the doors and the boy giggled, covering his head with his robes.

I straightened up in time to look casual as another person pulled open the compartment door. He couldn't have been much older than I was, and his green eyes and blonde hair was almost identical to that of the boy's, although he was a bit less tan. He was wearing robes as well, over a Hogwarts uniform: a white, long-sleeved shirt tucked into black slacks with a green and silver tie peering over a dark grey sweater vest. He glanced at me, then at my feet. "My younger brother has been running around the train," he said, leaning against the door, still staring at the bottom of the seats. "Have you seen him?" There was a smile playing across his lips and he lifted his eyes to meet mine.

My heart skipped a beat. _He's cute,_ I thought, glancing away quickly. "Your younger brother?" my voice was slightly dry from sleep.

"Yeah," he said. "Looks something like me, but pint-size, probably with a mischievous expression and dirty nose to boot…"

I smiled as I heard a mumbled protest under the seats. "Not here," I said cheerfully. "I thought I saw someone run past to the next compartment over, though. Check there."

He smirked. "Alrighty," he said with an overdramatic sigh. He stomped his feet a few times, took a large step so he was standing on the seat next to me, and closed the door with a snap. The room was silent as he pulled out his wand, staring at the floor with a grin on his face. He glanced at me and put a finger to his lips with a wink.

"Is he gone?" the boy beneath the seats asked, sticking his head out to peer up at me. Then he caught sight of his brother and his eyes widened.

"Levicorpus," the man commanded, and suddenly his brother was yanked by his leg up into the air. The boy hung there for a moment, suspended and spluttering, his own green and silver tie slipping from under the sweater vest to dangle in front of his nose. The man burst out laughing.

"Terrance!" he protested. "You used magic! That's not fair!"

"What's your basis for comparison?" The man – Terrance – grinned. "I would have caught you anyways, Jude."

"Put me down!"

"Alright, alright." Terrance raised his wand again. "Liberacorpus," he said, and Jude collapsed on the floor. "Sorry about the noise," Terrance said, turning towards me while Jude climbed to his feet and brushed himself off, grumbling under his breath. "I'm Terrance Noble, and this is my brother, Jude."

"Nice to meet you," I said. "I'm Erin Marwick."

"Charmed," Terrance said with a grin. "Is it your first year at Hogwarts, then?"

"I'm not pint sized!" Jude said, glaring at Terrance.

Terrance rolled his eyes. "Let me know when you can prove it."

"Yeah, it's my first year," I said, looking at Jude. "But I thought that only the Lost are at Hogwarts for the summer."

Terrance shrugged. "Special circumstances," he said. "Jude is staying with Hagrid for the summer semester."

Jude jumped up in excitement. "Yeah! Hey, Terrance! I bet Vike got bigger!"

"It's been a month, so I'm sure he has," Terrance said, rolling his eyes.

"Vike?" I asked Jude, curious.

"Hagrid's puppy!" Jude said, his round face shining with excitement. "Vike is short for Viking. Hagrid got him during my first year – well, last year I guess – and he's so much fun! He likes to tackle Terrance."

"And I have the bruises to show for it," Terrance said, smiling at me.

I laughed. "So is there a reason you are in your uniforms now?"

"Terrance told me I needed to be ready," Jude grumbled. "Even though we have four more hours until the train arrives…"

"_You_ would wait until the last minute to change," Terrance said, frowning at him. "The train almost left with you still on it last year."

"I was eleven!"

"Twelve isn't much older."

"Yeah it is!"

Terrance shook his head as Jude continued to protest.

"Do you have to wear uniforms every day?" I asked.

"The full uniform is required for classes and feasts, but otherwise you're allowed to wear casual clothes otherwise as long as you wear your robe."

"Except on weekends," Jude pied up.

Terrance nodded.

"Huh." That made me feel a bit better about bringing so many pairs of jeans. "Do you get your uniform after you're sorted?"

"Yeah. It's included in your tuition."

"Okay… Thanks for letting me know," I said, smiling. "I'm… a bit nervous, I guess."

"Not as nervous as Terrance was," Jude said, turning to me with a grin. "He almost threw up on the train."

Terrance looked embarrassed. "Jude," he said in a low voice.

Jude only laughed.

"So you started Hogwarts together?" I asked.

Terrance nodded. "We discovered we had magic around the same time."

Jude nodded, his face growing solemn. "Yeah," he said.

There was an awkward silence. I wanted to ask what had happened, but I had finally caught on – it wasn't something pleasant, whatever it was. I glanced out the window. "Is that a dragon?" I gasped.

Jude gasped too and ran to the window, searching for it. "Where?" He launched into another babble about what he had learned from Hagrid about dragons and his favorite portrait in Hogwarts being a dragon and did-you-know-dragons-come-from-eggs and my-favorite-dragon-is…

Terrance relaxed and gave me a sly glance. "A dragon?" he asked.

I shrugged. "They're fire-breathers, right? I thought it'd melt the ice."

He burst out laughing as Jude continued chattering away. "Thanks," he said, smiling.

I shrugged. "You're not the only one that has stuff they keep to themselves," I said, smiling back. "I just wasn't sure how else to get rid of that uncomfortable atmosphere."

"It was a good cover-up," he said.

"Thanks."

He gestured towards the seat beside me. "Mind of I sit down? You did bring up _dragons_ after all. Jude might keep us here for a while."

"Go right ahead," I said.

Jude's voice filled the majority of the silence and I enjoyed the bits of conversation Terrance and I had in between Jude's ramblings. Although we had just met, it was comfortable being with them. They were friendly, and friendliness was something I had been needing even before I was taken away from Cormac. _Perhaps we'll become friends,_ I thought idly, smiling as Jude tried to reenact a Quidditch match he had seen last year, his arms swinging wide as he pretended to block the goal. _It would be nice._

Little did I know that in the future, meeting them would be another item on the list of what I wish I hadn't done.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

**Yeah, I kind of stink at coming up with good endings… So, how do you lot like Terrance? Or Cormac? Any thoughts/predictions of what will happen next? Any requests for things you want to see in the next chapter? Oh, and please comment! Comments are better than cheesecake right now! I mean it! PLEASE COMMENT! :)**


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